


Until It's (dis)Proved

by monocrow



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Truth or Dare, i don't care that the fandoms dead i wanna write soft shinaya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monocrow/pseuds/monocrow
Summary: "Isn't the whole point of truth or darechoosingbetween truth or dare?"Ayano hums, playing with a fraying edge on the blanket Shintaro gave her. It was dark blue and old, kind of ratty, but she didn't seem to mind. "Yeah, but me and my siblings kinda got used to just picking truth because of Shuuya. His dares are the worst." She laughs and runs a bendy straw through the top of her soda bottle, taking a sip. "We can play normal truth or dare, if you want to."Shintaro shrugs, takes a sip of his own – without a straw, because using straws on bottles is weird. "No. It's fine. You're just bad at picking dares, aren't you?"
Relationships: Kisaragi Shintaro/Tateyama Ayano
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Until It's (dis)Proved

**Author's Note:**

> kagepro? in my 2020? more likely than you'd think.

"Isn't the whole point of truth or dare  _ choosing _ between truth or dare?" 

Ayano hums, playing with a fraying edge on the blanket Shintaro gave her. It was dark blue and old, kind of ratty, but she didn't seem to mind. "Yeah, but me and my siblings kinda got used to just picking truth because of Shuuya. His dares are the worst." She laughs and runs a bendy straw through the top of her soda bottle, taking a sip. "We can play normal truth or dare, if you want to."

Shintaro shrugs, takes a sip of his own – without a straw, because using straws on bottles is weird. "No. It's fine. You're just bad at picking dares, aren't you?" 

"Wha— Well, it's because of the underuse of it!" She sputters. Shintaro fixes her with a pointed look, and she sighs, cuts off the rest of her argument and laughs. "Yeah. It's hard thinking of mean ones." She moves the pillow from behind her and onto her lap and leans forward, still smiling. "So do you want to go first? I don't mind." He shrugs again, even though he's probably just as bad at coming up with them as her, just too prideful to admit it.

"Okay, sure. Would you trade one of your siblings for ten million yen?" Shintaro asks. She looks taken aback, for moment, before laughing. He feels like he should be embarrassed, for some reason.

"I'm sorry," Ayano says, wiping her eyes. "That one's just really easy. Sorry, but no." 

"I would." He smirks. "My sister can be so annoying sometimes. She always gets all the attention." He says, and it slips from his lips easily, like he's used to being vulnerable or something. Ayano doesn't act like he said anything special, though, and keeps going. Maybe she's just used to people being vulnerable around her.

"Why don't you ever hang out with her? You'd get along better that way." Then she adds, "Well, probably. I guess I don't really know her." 

Shintaro shrugs again. "She's always busy. Not a big deal." He drinks from his soda. "It's your turn." 

"Um," she says, biting the inside of her cheek. He might say it was cute if he had a crush on her, but he definitely doesn't have one, so he doesn't say it. "Oh! Do you have a crush on anyone!" She says more than asks. He has the sudden terrifying fear that she's psychic, and she's seen what he thinks about when he's bored in class.

"No."

She pouts, pauses, like there's something she knows and he doesn't, and she's debating on telling him. She lets out a laugh instead, soft, barely there. "No need to be embarrassed! We're friends, I won't tell anyone." 

He pretends the word  _ friends _ doesn't make him feel weird inside and says, "Then I'll make sure to tell you when I get one."

"Awe, fine, okay. You've gotta make sure though!" She points at him, too dramatic for his tastes, so he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. My turn again." He takes another drink to avoid it, since he hasn't thought of anything yet. His eyes land on the cardboard box on the other side of his room. "Have you ever gotten a present you hated?"

Ayano grabs a chunk of her hair, gently pulling on it, running it through her fingers. "Uh," she laughs, again, awkward and forced. He wonders if she does that when she's nervous. "Okay, don't tell anyone— well, I guess you don't know them, so it doesn't really matter, but,  _ anyway_, my aunt gave me a wooden pop up play set. The kind that you get for toddlers. The recommended age was two to four." Shintaro barely has swallowed all of the soda in his mouth before he starts laughing. 

"What—" he pauses to cough. "Why?" 

Ayano laughs, still tugging on a lock of her hair. "I have no idea, I was thirteen when it happened." Shintaro snorts. "What about you? Has your sister ever gotten you something you didn't like?" 

He feels himself smirk again, and he nods towards the box in the corner again. "Yeah, but it wasn't my sister. It was my mom. She came in my room to look at the games I had so she could get me things I like. She ended buying all of the same games I already had."

Ayano covers her mouth and snorts.

"Yeah. I dunno what to do with them." He pauses. "Do you want them?"

She jolts. "Huh?"

"The games. Do you want them? I don't have anything to do with them, and giving them to you is better than throwing them away."

"Uh— really?" Ayano rises out of her blanket cocoon for a moment, then hurriedly drops back down as if she didn't even realize she was doing it.

"Sure," he says. His blanket falls from around his shoulders as he stands to get the box. When he picks it up, he strains, just a bit, and he doesn't know if it's just heavier than he remembers, or if he's gotten weaker since his birthday. He drops it back down between the two of them.

Ayano shifts onto her knees, peering over the edge of it. It's mostly full of various shooter games, MMOs, guns and blood plastered over the covers with big, blocky titles covering half of their case. She laughs nervously, and Shintaro furrows his brow.

"If you don't want them, don't take them. I can find something else to do with them." He says, and his tone comes out harsher than he meant.

"No! No, it's fine!" She waves her hands around in front of her, like she's trying to fend off an attack. "I'm gonna play all of them! I'll get really good, too! Maybe I can even get as good as you and Takane?"

He rolls his eyes again, pulling the blanket back around his shoulders, reworking himself into the spot he was in before. "You can try, I guess. I'm not gonna help you figure it out though. At least not until I don't have to help you with your homework."

She humphs, but there's a smile there, so he doesn't feel so guilty. 

"Oh, is it my turn again?" She asks, and he nods. "I don't know if it really counts, though, since you told me about your bad gift, too." 

Shintaro groans. "That's cheating. It's still your turn."

"What? I thought you would want to, since you said you're good at coming up with questions."

"I never said that. I just said I would go first."

Ayano laughs, and it's light and airy and disgustingly sweet, and there are butterflies in his stomach. He'd rather throw them all up then have to deal with them.

"Do you really want me to go again? I think you come up with better questions." She says it while smiling, and it makes Shintaro grumble something completely unintelligible. Even to himself, and he was the one saying it.

"Fine." He says, and if possible, her smile gets bigger and prettier. "We're gonna have to start looking up questions if this keeps up."

Ayano shrugs. "We can just play something different then, if you don't want to."

He thinks.

It's a mind numbingly simple game – something that Shintaro is almost never fond of. He likes challenging games, things that don't leave him feeling bored and empty, that leave him asking for more, if only for a lack of something better to do.

But something about this, just sitting back, turning his brain off and just  _ talking _ to Ayano was enough. It doesn't have anything to do with her, though, he's sure. He doesn't talk to many people, so he's just projecting. Probably.

"No, I'm fine with this," is what he eventually decides on. 

"That's good," she smiles. "I'm having fun with it."

There's something weird about this, too. He never brings people over – can't remember if he even has, actually – let alone a girl. He hadn't missed the knowing look his mom had shot at him when he went up the stairs. He countered it with the biggest disappointed deadpan he could muster, but it seems like its effectiveness wore off over years. She just shook her head, smiling. It was irritating, but he couldn't say anything about it with Ayano around.

"Think of the next question," he demands, because he doesn't like where his thought process is going.

"But you said that you would go?" She asks.

"Ugh, okay, give me a minute." He takes another swig from his bottle to think, since drinking soda through the pain is his answer to all of his problems. "Uh, what's your biggest fear?"

Another vulnerable question, but it's not directed at him this time, so it's okay.

Ayano pauses, biting the inside of her cheek like she had before. "I guess... being inadequate?" She laughs. "It's kind of stupid, I know. It's just... I want to be a good big sister, and a good friend. I think not being able to do that would be really sad." She laughs again, awkward, and tugs on a lock of her hair. "Sorry, that's kind of serious." 

Shintaro shrugs and avoids eye contact, the same way he avoids the weird inkling of guilt in his stomach that doesn't belong there. "I don't like the ocean," he says into his soda. "'S creepy."

She nods, brightens. "Yeah! Well, I think it's cool, too, not just creepy. There are a lot of cool fish. I like boxfish."

"Boxfish?" 

She nods. "They're box shaped!" She draws a square in the air, like she doesn't expect him to know his shapes, or something. "My dad really likes the ocean, so I know a lot about it."

"Cool. Your turn."

"Oh, yeah, I guess it is." She hums, and trails her eyes across the ceiling. "Oh, what's your favorite memory?"

Shintaro leans back and thinks. It feels like there's million and one things that have happened to him, even though he's only fifteen. They all muddle together in a brown muddy haze, it's like looking through a dark curtain and at the sun peeking through, but you can't see beyond it, the outlines of the trees and buildings against the sun. There's nothing there to pull out of the muck, and he doesn't even have the luxury of cherry picking.

"I don't think I have one." He ends up saying. It doesn't come out as depressing as he worried it would, which is close to a miracle.

"What?" Ayano sounds surprised, and it's genuine enough that it gets him to raise an eyebrow. "I mean, isn't there something happy that you think back on when your sad, or something like that?"

"I usually just watch TV, or go online," he shrugs. Ayano hums, in a pensive sort of way.

"I don't think those are really proper memories, though." She says, in a way that sounds more like she's just thinking aloud. He doesn't really care. "Okay, what about now?"

"What do you mean, what about now?"

"Why don't we try to make now your happy memory?" She sing-songs. There's no embarrassment tinging her voice like he thinks there should be.

There's a weird tingle in his chest, which is just added onto the list of weird things that happen to him whenever he speaks to her. He looks away from her smile, because it makes some of the tingle go away, just to the point that it's bearable, and so he doesn't hear his heart beating in his ears.

"Why?"

"Um!" Ayano taps her cheek. "I don't know? Being happy is important, and you're my friend, so I want you to be happy."

The blanket around him suddenly feels too hot around his neck, and he wrings at the fabric of his shirt around it.

"I guess I can think of now," he says, eventually. Letting the words out feels like letting some of the broiling heat out, through his breath, and he reaches instinctively for the cool plastic of his soda bottle. It's loose in his clammy hands, slick with condensation and what was probably what was his own sweat. 

Despite it all, it was nice. 

"What about you?" He asks, and it's a struggle to string together the proper vowels and consonants to make it sound normal, since his tongue feels like a hot lump of coal in his mouth.

"Huh?"

"Your happy memory. What is it."

"Well, there's a lot that I can think about," she says, looking down at her hands, the same softness in her voice that inexplicably drips with comfort and safety, the kind that makes him feel so ironically uncomfortable. "I have some with Tsubomi, Shuuya and Kousuke, some with my parents, some at school." And she pauses, looks up. "I have a lot with just you, too."

Shintaro hates blushing, hates the feeling of not being able to control his expressions, so he pretends that the creeping heat isn't there. It isn't climbing up his neck, it isn't flushing against the fabric of his shirt, blanket, and the loose hair that tickles his forehead. 

It's a stupid thing to get so worked up over, either way – of course she has memories of him, she spends practically all her time at school by him, keeping the air around him sweet and light, even when he's in his foulest moods. Of course there are times where he, Haruka, Takane and Ayano are together. He's smiled and laughed with them, and so has she.

But then he replays what she said in his head, and the  _ 'just you,' _ part hits him like a ton of bricks.

"Um," he chokes, "like what?"

It's getting dark outside – sun setting, and Ayano should probably head home, but he can't managed to tell her to leave. He's even thankful it's dark. The overhead light is off, so the room is dimming in synch with the sky outside the window. It hides the flush on his cheeks, but helps conceal Ayano's eyes behind her hair.

She starts fiddling with her fingers again, drawing out her answer. "Back a few weeks – or maybe a month or so ago, when we were walking home. It was late, since you stayed behind to help me catch up with my math homework. The sun was already setting, and it was so red and orange and beautiful. And you just," she finally looks back up, smiles, "looked so happy, the most genuine kind of happy from you that I've seen. You were talking the entire time home, and was... really nice." She laughs, and it twinges with sheepish embarrassment when she scratches at the base of her neck. "I guess it's not a big deal. Most of my happy memories aren't."

Shintaro realizes he's been staring too long without saying anything, so he lets loose a noncommittal grunt in the back of his throat. It's a weird concept, now that he's thinking about it. Thinking of someone else's happiness to make yourself happy.

"Do you," he swallows the sandpapery lump in his throat, "think about me— it – often?"

"Um!" She squeaks. "Sometimes!" It seems like the rightful embarrassment has finally caught up to her, with the way she shrinks back into her scarf, pulling a pillow tighter to her chest. "Uh, ha, I guess! Wait— well, there are a lot of things I think about, like I said earlier. You know! Happy memories and stuff!"

A pause. "Huh," Shintaro says, "Okay." He decides to throw her a bone and not push it further. He looks away from her, scratches his cheek – still warm, he notices with chagrin. 

Ayano sighs in relief – and, if she's trying to be subtle, she's really not doing a good job at it – loosening her white knuckled hold on the pillow. There's a terse moment of silence, where they both rehash the conversation in their heads, picking apart what was sad and what should be said next. Shintaro digs his nails into his calves, bites his tongue, because he hates his stupid brain and the stupid things it makes him want to say.

"I guess I can think of you, too," he's, eventually, able to pry the words out of his lips. It's hoarse and much too raw for his liking. It doesn't come out in the confident and suave way he hoped it might, but he counts the fact that he was even able to say it at all as a win.

Even as the room gets darker, he can see the smattering of pink on her cheeks, reaching across the bridge of her nose. He hopes to god that she can't see his own, but it's probably a lost cause, since his face has been burning like an open electrical wire for the past ten minutes.

Ayano pulls herself back together, and the slack surprise in her jaw vanishes with a giggle, like always. 

"Alright," she says, and holds out her pinky finger. "It's a promise."

Despite it all, Shintaro frowns. "That's stupid, Ayano."

She pouts, but thrusts her hand further to him, so her fingertip is close to brushing his nose. "I'm not leaving until you promise me!" 

He rolls his eyes, and makes sure that it's dramatic enough that she can still see it. He reaches his hand out, and wraps his finger around her own. She's warm, and her skin is smooth and soft and delicate all at once. It makes him a little lightheaded.

"There," she says, and she squeezes her pinky around his. 

He doesn't think he's felt something this intimate, even if it's a moment that can be so easily mistaken as something platonic. The way her lips melt into a smile. Soft, intoxicating brown eyes locking onto his own, and he thinks, if he looks hard enough, he might be able to see small speckles of red in them that he's never noticed before. 

"Okay," he mutters, and he's the one to pull away, averting eyes to the carpet – beige and stained with soda spills, which he's suddenly feeling self-conscious over.

Now there's silence around them, but it's not as oppressive as before, even if it's still tinged with awkwardness. 

"I should probably head home soon," Ayano says, and it breaks any of the tension from the moment. 

"Um. Yeah, here," Shintaro stands and goes over to flip the light switch. It stings a bit, and he tries to avoid rubbing his eyes like a little kid. Ayano heaves the box of games up. He'd forgotten about them up until now.

It's awkward again, with them looking at each other from opposite ends of the room. He should probably walk her out, maybe help her carry the box home, but then that might come off as creepy. 

He doesn't realizes she's walking until she's halfway across the room, closing in on the door. Her shoulder brushes against his when she walks by. He wants to reach out, catch her hand in his, but he doesn't know why or even what he would do if he did, so he doesn't.

Ayano thinks that if she was a more confident kind of person, she might have pressed a kiss to his cheek before leaving. 

But she isn't, so she doesn't.

**Author's Note:**

> this was intended as a practice in writing mostly dialogue, but i kinda gave up towards the end and started falling back into my normal sort of wordy introspection lmao


End file.
